


Tough

by Tzipporrah



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Kid Fic, Post-Season/Series 02, Project Blackwing (Dirk Gently), Rescue Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-11 22:53:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13534224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tzipporrah/pseuds/Tzipporrah
Summary: When young Bart is first brought in to Blackwing, the Rowdy 3 try to befriend her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are a few Bart related mentions of sudden death, but they are not graphic. I chose the graphic depictions of violence tag just in case.  
> Also, Bart and Cross are 8, Gripps is 14 or 15, and Martin is in his 20s, going off the actors' ages in real life.

Mr. Priest had brought in a little girl, covered in dirt and blood. Gripps had seen her in the hallway, because he was the last of Project Incubus to turn the corner before she was marched down the hall. He’d just caught a glimpse of her little face, before Riggins laid a hand on his back and nudged him to catch up.   
Later, when they were alone in their shared room, he had told Martin, while their little brother Cross slept in an adjacent dorm.  
“She was so tiny.” He whispered. “About Cross’ age. And I felt something…her energy smelled like danger and violence. I wonder if she’s like us three.”  
“Maybe,” Martin said quietly. “I don’t think they’d let her stay with us, even if she is, though.”  
“I bet she’s so scared,” Gripps said, hugging his pillow to his chest. “I remember how I felt when they brought me in.”  
Martin nodded and patted Gripps on the shoulder, leaning across the space between their bunks for an easy hug. “Maybe we can help her feel more at home, here. I’m sure those pricks who work here won’t.”  
“I’ll write her a letter!” Gripps whispered excitedly.   
“That’s a good idea,” Martin smiled. “Now, get some sleep.” 

 

Bart had been in this new place for two sleeps, and still wasn’t used to sleeping and eating on a schedule. She had been on her own for such a long time, it was weird being in the same place and talking to the same people all the time. The men had brought people to talk to her, ask her questions, and she had answered what she could. One man, short, bald, and sweaty smelling, had sat in a metal folding chair and the legs folded up and broke him. A woman with gray hair and mean eyes had gotten angry with Bart, then tripped backward over the table in the room, and hit her head. Bart was used to people getting hurt or killed around her, it had been happening wherever she went for as long as she could remember. She wondered for how long she would be in this new place, with its gray walls, gray floors and gray bed. A man with a mustache and a round tummy had given her a teddy bear and some books with nice pictures, and he hadn’t died, so she decided it wasn’t bad there.  
On the third morning, she found a ripped, smudged piece of paper on the floor by her door. She unfolded it, and found a message, written in really pretty letters. She couldn’t read very well, but she tried, and what she could get from it was this :  
“Hi… girl. We…G…C…Mart…   
We…nice…be…fr….  
You…sad…be…safe…”  
She read it again a few times, then folded it back up and put it inside one of her books. No one had ever written her a note before, and even though she didn’t really know what it said, it made her have a good feeling in her chest.  
That day, someone brought her crayons and paper, so it was a really good day. She asked for tape, too, and by night time, she had decorated her gray walls with lots of colorful pictures. 

 

Riggins had taken Martin, Gripps, and Cross outside for fresh air, and to let Cross and Gripps play on the simplified playground. Martin sat on the ground and watched his little brothers, making sure they were safe.   
“They’re ok, Martin, they’re tough like you.” Riggins came to stand beside him. “You don’t have to worry so much.”  
“Somebody has to take care of them,” Martin said solemnly. “Your people sure as shit don’t.”  
“Watch your language.” Riggins nudged his thigh with his booted foot. “We do what we have to, you know. It’s not just your boys who need to be kept safe. We have to keep people safe from all three of you.”  
“Bullshit, you just haven’t figured out how to use us for your benefit, is all.” Martin stood, and towered over their glorified zookeeper. “They may be monsters like me, but that don’t mean they ain’t still kids. It’s too late for me, but I’ll be damned if I let you take their childhood away too.”  
“Martin, I have asked you not to swear.” Riggins squared his shoulders and tried to make himself look bigger. “What are you getting at, do you want me to bring them toys? Video games?”  
“That’s a start, but I don’t think they’d last very long.” Martin nimbly nicked something from Riggins’ pocket, then had a cigarette lit and in his mouth in a blink. “Nah, I was thinking more like letting them be around some of the other kids here.”  
“You little shit, give me back my cigarettes.” Riggins snatched the pack and lighter back without a fight from Martin. “And that’s out of the question, that would be a disaster.”  
“We don’t hurt each other, why do you think we would hurt another kid?”  
“Well, isn’t that your thing?” the older man asked. “Fear tactics? Aggression?”  
“I can keep my boys in line. Gripps said Priest brought in a little girl about Cross’ age, the other day. And I know you have a little chickenshit boy somewhere around here, I can smell his fear in the hallways every day.”  
“Ok, ok,” Riggins held up his hands. “The girl, she’s dangerous. People drop like flies around her. We’ve had to give up and keep her in her room indefinitely, because hardly anyone survives being in her presence.”  
“So, now you’re afraid we’ll get hurt? You were just telling me me and the boys are a danger to society. Sounds like this girl has a lot in common with us.” He tipped his head to one side and cocked an eyebrow.  
Riggins stood still for a moment, considering. “Ok, one time. I’ll set it up. But if anything happens, Martin, so help me god-“  
“You’ll lock us in our rooms indefinitely, too?”   
Riggins sighed. “Shut up, Martin. Oh, and the boy—not going to happen.”  
“Fine,” Martin surrendered, flicking away the cigarette butt and grinning maniacally. “But we’ll find him eventually. He smells delicious. Boys! Time to go.”  
Gripps, hanging upside down from a horizontal bar, and Cross, on top of the playhouse roof, whined. Martin whistled, and they slipped down to the ground and followed him and Riggins back inside. 

 

Bart had spent hours working on a picture for the letter-writer. The mustache guy had told her she was going to meet some other kids, and she had guessed the writer would be one of them. She hoped she was right. The one thing she had always wanted was a friend. So she carefully folded the drawing and tucked it under the zipper on her jumpsuit, before the man came to get her. 

They took her to a big room with soft walls, a soft floor, and big, squishy looking toys on the floor. There were no chairs, tables, or anything hard. Bart thought that was good planning, just in case. She sat down on one of the pillows, looking around at the colorful cushions. She heard the door click again, and looked up to see a skinny boy her size with messy hair, a taller boy with a sweet looking, round face and braided hair, and a very tall young man with hair that stuck up, wearing glasses. The younger two were both grinning, and the little one tried to run to her, but tripped, and landed face first in a pillow. He rolled over and laughed.   
“Hi!” he shouted. “I’m Cross! I’m 8. What’s you’re name?”  
“Ba-Bart. Well, really it’s Bartine, but Bart is easier.” She blushed. “I don’t know what number I am. Do you think they’ll give me one?”  
The boy with the sweet face had slowly come up to squat nearby, and he chuckled at what Bart had said. “No, they don’t give you a number, Cross means he’s 8 years old. Do you know how many years old you are?”  
Bart shook her head no. Cross and the other boy looked at each other sadly.   
“Did you write my letter?” she asked them.  
“Yeah!” the older boy said. “I wrote it. My name is Gripps, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”  
“It’s nice to meet you, too!” Bart grinned. “I made you a picture.” She pulled her zipper down a little and drew out the paper, then handed it to Gripps.   
Cross leaned over to look at the drawing, his mouth open. Gripps had tears in his eyes, despite the big grin splitting his round face.   
“I- I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Bart said, leaning forward. “I can’t write, so I drew instead.”  
“You can’t write?” Cross asked. “You look old enough to have been going to school. Can you read?”  
Again, Bart shook her head, and again, the boys shared sad expressions. The tall guy came over, then, walking in long, slow strides, and holding a hand out.   
“Why don’t y’all play?” he said softly. “Maybe you could stack those block things, over there, make a fort.” He pointed at a pile of foam building blocks. 

 

Gripps stood up and stayed with Martin while Cross and Bart went to build with the blocks.  
“Has nobody been taking care of her, Martin?” he asked quietly.  
“Who knows.” Came the answer. “Riggins said people don’t usually survive around her, so she probably ain’t been to school, or had anyone to teach her anything. But you know what I noticed?”  
“What?”  
“I don’t think she’s ever been scared in her life. She was getting embarrassed, before I interrupted y’all, but she smells like nobody I’ve ever been around. You remember how scared you where when you first got here? And Cross was nothing but rage and fear when they brought him in. Even if we wanted to feed off this girl, there ain’t nothing for us to eat.”  
“I like her.” Gripps said, leaning against Martins shoulder. “She’s one of a kind.”  
“Me too.”

Just then, Cross threw a block at Bart’s head, and it bounced off her head and hit the wall, knocking loose a camera that had been mounted in the corner close to the ceiling. The camera fell down and hit Cross on the top of the head, knocking him out cold. Bart leaned against the wall, a defeated look on her little face.   
“OK, that’s it,” Riggins shouted. “Martin, Gripps, let’s get Cross to the infirmary, one of you take Bart back to her room.” He nodded his head to the other men by the door.   
Martin hooked his hands under Cross’ armpits and Gripps grabbed his feet. Once they were out of earshot of the little girl, Martin caught Riggins’ eye.  
“Guess that one timee won’t be turning into a twice, huh?”  
“Yeah, no, she’s too dangerous,” the older man nodded. “I’m sorry, boys.”  
“It was worth a shot,” Gripps said sadly. “Will you teach her to read? She said she doesn’t know how.”  
“I’ll see what I can do.” Riggins said.

 

Bart was put back in her room. The mustache man brought her a tv and a bunch of movie tapes.   
“Is that boy ok?” she asked.  
“Yes, he’s fine, Bart,” he smiled. “He just got a bump on the noggin.”  
“OK. I guess I better not play with him again, huh?”  
“Oh. That’s- yes, that’s probably for the best.”


	2. Rebel Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post season 2. A glimpse at Bart's life after she submitted herself to Blackwing; her rescue; and a bit of her life afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is from a song by Bikini Kill, which reminds me of sort of how I think Amanda and Bart would probably view each other.

Bart had been patient, since surrendering herself to Blackwing. She had successfully ignored the tug that had told her to kill Ken, for some time. She didn’t have much of a concept of time, though, so she wasn’t sure how long it had been. She’d lost count after sixty-something nights. What she couldn’t ignore, though, was the way things seemed to be escalating, around the facility, since she’d returned. Ken had gotten colder and less friendly, day by day, week by week. There was a tension among the guys who worked for him, and after a while, she stopped seeing the same guys more than a few times. It was like they were disappearing. Mr. Priest had somehow found meaner and yet more unsettling things to say to Bart, about Bart to others, etc. She had never liked him. She missed Riggins. He’d at least been kind to her, when she’d been there before. It was too bad he had died.   
One thing about being left to herself in her room, or cell, or whatever it was supposed to be- she had very little to distract her mind. Memories of a long time ago started coming to her without warning. The first night sleeping in the familiar hard, metal-framed bed, under the same scratchy gray blankets, smelling the same cleaning supplies they’d used when she was a kid—she remembered her first night there. Her room then had been much smaller, but so had she. She’d been given a teddy bear, then, and she wished she still had it. It had been soft, and had a friendly face. 

On a different day, she had asked her guards to get her some paper and crayons, and the feel of the wax bumping against the grit of the cold plastic table top had triggered another memory. She could see the little drawings papering the cell walls, and remembered how much lighter it had made her feel to have bright colors to look at.   
The next day, she remembered getting a letter under her door, from those nice boys she met that one time. She had read it over and over, after Riggins had given her the Hooked on Phonics tapes, and she had learned to read. It had been many years, since, but she still remembered that it had told her their names, and that they wanted to be her friends. Also they had told her she didn’t have to be scared while she was at Blackwing, which was weird, because she hadn’t been. Just lonely. She wondered if those boys were still alive, and if they had been brought back again, like her. She hoped they hadn’t been. Even though she had been alone, during the years after they had shut Blackwing down, before, she hadn’t really been unhappy. She had just been doing what the Universe told her to do, and the Universe had protected her.   
She still wasn’t sure why she had had to be born only to be a weapon of the Universe’s interests. It had taken a toll on her, mostly because she was so alone, and even when she made friends, they usually got killed. It was probably safer for her to be locked up, after all. But she learned she was considerably less happy inside that gray room than she had been doing what she was made for. 

One afternoon, the teddy bear was on her bed. She had just come back from taking a shower, and there it was. She picked it up and hugged it, and it even smelled the same as before. She had fallen asleep with her arms wrapped around it, that night, and dreamed of her friend Panto.   
In the middle of the night, she woke up with her arm draped over a pretty young woman with black hair and a sweet smile. She put her fingers to her lips and in a voice like a fairy, said, “Shhh. I’m here to tell you, we’re going to rescue you.”  
“Who is?” Bart asked the girl.   
“The Rowdy 3.” She said matter-of-factly. “We are bringing together all of us, the special ones, like you and me.”  
“You’re special too?” Bart whispered back. “Are you a holistic assassin?”  
The girl shook her head. “I’m a holistic actress. I can be anything. I was your bear. That’s how I snuck in here- first I was a cricket, then I was a cloud, then I was a cat, then I was a rollerskate…”   
Bart listened to the girl list the things she had changed into in order to find her, and thought about how happy it made her to know someone cared about her. But then she thought of something worrying.  
“Wait,” she interrupted. “These rowdy people. Do they want to make me kill people? Cuz Ken already tried that, and that’s not what I’m made for.”  
The girl shook her head again. “No, no. They want to build a team of all of us, so we can work together, to fix the universe.”  
“Oh. OK, I can do that. What do I need to do first? I can leave right now, if you want. They can’t stop me.”  
“No, not yet.” She said with a slightly pouty expression. “The rest of them couldn’t travel as fast as I can, so they sent me ahead, to let you know. That way, you don’t accidentally kill any of them when they get here. Also, they don’t want you to be scared.”  
Bart smiled. “I don’t get scared. But thank you, that’s very helpful for me. Are you going to stay here for the rest of the night?”  
“I was going to fly back, but if you want me to be a bear again, I don’t mind. I have to leave in the morning, though.”  
“OK, that’s fine.”   
The girl smiled sweetly, then suddenly there was a simple teddy bear beside her again. She hugged it, this time with a much lighter heart.

 

Two days after the teddy bear who was a girl had shown up, a letter slid under Bart’s door. She had pretended she was picking up trash, so the guards wouldn’t notice. The handwriting was much fancier, this time, but she could tell who had written it.  
‘We’re here, and there are six of us now. We have two ladies with us now, besides the one you met- one with black hair, the other with rainbow. Stand all the way back against the farthest wall, and yell when you’re ready.’  
Bart ran back to the wall opposite the door, then yelled, “READY!”   
The door fell in. The guards standing on either side of it jumped and stared. A tall man with glasses, a striped beard, and white hair that stuck straight up stepped on top of the door. The guards reached for their guns, but three more guys came in behind the one with glasses, and when they all opened their mouths, the room was flooded with blue light. The guards fell down, and didn’t get back up. Three of the guys stepped into the room, walking towards her with big smiles. The one with glasses put his hand out the door and helped a tiny woman with long dark hair to step across the door. Then he helped a woman with rainbow hair, who walked funny. The guys who were walking towards her all started talking at once.  
“Is it really you?”  
“We missed you so much!”  
“Did you really knock Cross unconscious without even touching him?”   
Someone whistled, but Bart hadn’t seen who, and everyone got quiet. The short woman walked up to Bart and smiled, showing big dimples.   
“Hi, I’m Amanda.” She stuck out her hand to shake Bart’s.  
“I’m Bart. Nice to meet you.”  
“Gripps and Cross told me about you,” she nodded towards the man with a bald head and the man with a circle around one eye, and they both smiled shyly. “Dirk Gently and my brother had told me about you, before, too.”   
Bart brightened at Dirk’s name. “Is Dirk still mad at me for almost killing him?”  
“Kinda, yeah.” Amanda said ruefully. “But it doesn’t matter, because you don’t belong here. From what we could figure out, you kill bad people, right?”  
“I only kill who the universe tells me to kill, I won’t kill people for money or being told to.” Bart gave her a serious look.  
“Right, exactly. I don’t want to make you break from your trajectory. I just meant, that’s your ability. The people the Universe tells you to kill usually turn out to be murderers, rapists, drug dealers, etc.”  
“Oh, well that’s good.” Bart smiled.  
“Yes, it is.” Amanda nodded. “We want you to come with us, and just do what you feel lead to do. That’s it.”  
“And be our friend.” The guy with the circle tattoo said, and then he blushed.  
Amanda smiled warmly. “And be our friend. Do you want to come with us? You can stay here, we won’t make you leave. It’s your decision.”  
“I want to come.” Bart said.  
“Yes!” the bald man said, pumping his fist. He and the guy with the circle tattoo stepped closer to her as Amanda stepped back to talk with the other two, and the girl with rainbow hair rummaged in the pockets of the fallen guards.  
“Do you remember us?” the guy with the circle asked.  
“Are you the one the camera knocked on the noggin?” she asked, squinting to see the little boy in the man’s face.  
He nodded several times. “I’m Cross.”  
“Then you’re the one that wrote the letter?” she pointed to the bald man. His face was still round and sweet, he had just gotten a lot taller.  
“Yes, ma’am. My name is Gripps, and I wrote both letters.”  
Bart smiled widely and opened her arms, inviting a group hug. The two men became the slices of bread, and Bart the middle of the sandwich.   
“Wait, so where’s the other guy, and who are those two guys?”  
“That’s Martin, he was with us when we met you before,” Cross said. “Only his hair was black, and he didn’t have a beard. The other little guy is our other brother, Vogel. He came later, a long time after we met you.”  
“The girl with the colorful hair came back from Wendimoor with us,” Gripps said. “Her name is Beast.”  
“I went there, with Panto.” Bart said softly, remembering the last time she had seen her friend with pink hair.  
“Oh yeah?” Cross asked. “We must have just missed each other. I’m glad you came back, though. That little boy brought us back to life, he brought everybody back to life. Except the bad guys, though.”  
“He did?” Bart brightened.  
“Yeah, he fixed the whole place back up.” Gripps grinned. “He told Drummer to come back here and fix the universe. That’s her job now, and our job is to help her.”  
“Who’s Drummer?” Bart was confused.  
“Oh, Drummers the boss!” the little guy yelled, suddenly popping up between Gripps and Cross. “Her real name is Amanda. Didn’t you just meet her?”  
Bart nodded, wrinkling her nose and smiling.  
“I’m Vogel.” He said, holding up a fist for her to bump. “It’s super cool to meet you, I’ve heard all about what a big badass you are.”  
Bart smiled even bigger, then she thought of a question. “Hey, how did you guys get past all the guys who work here? I didn’t even hear any noise until you broke my door.”  
“Drummer used this magic wand she took from the scary lady in Wendimoor,” Gripps said, gesturing at Amanda. “And Mona turned into a smoke bomb and made the rest of them pass out.”  
“Oh, well that’s good, then.”   
“Project Incubus,” said a new voice, from the gaping doorway. “I never would have guessed you four would be stupid enough to come back here.”  
Everyone turned to look as Ken strode into the room, over the door, with a grim smile on his face. Gripps, Cross, and Martin immediately formed a wall between Ken and Vogel and Beast, while Amanda stood between him and Bart.   
“Miss Brotzman, it’s nice to finally meet you.”  
“Fuck you.” Amanda spat, tugging at her jacket as if itching to pull out a weapon.   
Ken was armed only with a walkie talkie, but it could mean he could call in backup, and that would definitely slow things down.   
“Why are you trying to break Project Marzanna out, Miss Brotzman?” Ken asked. “Do you realize you’ll be endangering everyone you meet, let alone Project Incubus and your little rainbow haired friend? She’s a danger to society, Miss Brotzman. I’m the only person who has ever survived being alone with her for more than a few days. She should be here, where we can keep her, and everyone else, safe.”  
Martin took a couple of steps toward Ken, using his considerable height to try to intimidate the shorter man. Ken flinched and took half a step back, then bared his teeth and stared back.   
“No one belongs in this place, asshole.” Martin said, his voice a low and menacing growl. “Were not meant to be kept in cages, none of us. We have to fulfill our purposes. She’s coming with us.”  
“You can’t force her to kill your enemies, you know.” Ken snarked. “She doesn’t work like that.”  
“I’m aware.” Martin said, tilting his head to one side, then taking a few steps back.   
While Ken was distracted by Martin, an enormous anaconda had slithered into the room, and was just beginning to coil around his legs. He looked down and screamed for a moment. Then an exasperated look crossed his face.  
“Project Lamia, I would appreciate it if you would let me go.”   
The snake raised its head and shook it side to side. Bart stepped past Amanda and strode up to Ken, still wrapped in Mona’s snake coils.   
“I’m going with them, Ken.” She said with a sad expression. “And I’m going to finish what I was supposed to do when I first got here.”   
She picked up a gun that happened to have been accidentally pushed towards her feet by Mona in anaconda form.   
“Bart, please.” Ken said, his voice and demeanor changing from its former brusqueness to a softer, kinder tone and look. “I’m your friend. I’m your only friend, it’s me, Ken. Please, Bart. You don’t want to kill me.”  
“You’re right.” Bart said, wiping her nose with her sleeve. “But I’m supposed to. And it’s not about what I want. It’s about the greater good.”   
She raised the gun, and she and Ken both closed their eyes as she pulled the trigger. Mona instantly returned to her normal form, and wrapped Bart in her arms, where the fairer woman sobbed into her shoulder. Two more pairs of warm arms folded around her, and she looked up to see Cross and Gripps joining the hug. 

 

A month later, Bart awoke in her bed, in her room in the little house Amanda and Martin had managed to rent for the 8 of them to stay in for the time being. Around her waist were draped the arms of Cross and Gripps, and she snuggled back into their dual embrace for a few more minutes. It wouldn’t be long before they all had to get up and go help the farmers who had rented the house to them. Bart had a lightening stricken tree to disassemble with her new chain saw, and Cross and Gripps had cows to milk and pigs to feed. It was only a temporary situation for the Rowdy 3, but it kept the four women fed, and they all had more room to stretch out in the little house than in the now cramped van. The Farmer’s wife suffered from chronic pain, and the boys were able to relieve it for her, as needed, which kept them fed as well.  
Bart privately reflected on how much her life had changed, in such a short time. She had gone from having no friends, to one friend, who she had lost, then a second friend, who she watched die. Then she had returned to her first friend, and learned that he had changed into someone unsettlingly monstrous. Now she had seven friends- or technically five friends and two boyfriends. Her cheeks warmed and she nuzzled Gripps’ shoulder. She felt Cross stir, and begin kissing the back of her neck, and she pressed back into his arms. Gripps opened his eyes and moved into the space she had made between them.   
“Morning.” He said as he bent to kiss her. 

Bart had finally stopped fighting her instincts, and let the Universe nudge her in the directions she needed to go, and the things she needed to do. She had discovered what happiness really was, and she would kill anyone who tried to take it away from her again.


End file.
